


Not Exactly Home

by ThatHCWriter



Category: A Nightmare on Elm Street (2010), Dead by Daylight (Video Game)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bill Overbeck Has a Heart, Blood Loss, F/M, Father-Son Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Fuck Remake Freddy, Gen, Hallucinations, Homesickness, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Childhood Sexual Abuse, Mistaken Identity, Poor Quentin, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Quentin Smith Needs A Hug, Remake Freddy can Suck it, Reminiscing, Soft Survivors (Dead by Daylight), Team as Family, parental figures
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-04
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-14 20:15:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29797326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatHCWriter/pseuds/ThatHCWriter
Summary: Freddy had Quentin cornered in the basement of Badham Preschool, bleeding and alone and drowning in memories. Thankfully, the others got The Nightmare away in time, but Bill quickly notices there's something off about the dreamwalker.That's when things get unexpected for both the veteran and the kid.Or, Bill gets in touch with a side of himself he thought he left behind, and Quentin gains an unlikely friend.
Relationships: Alan Smith & Quentin Smith, Bill Overbeck & Quentin Smith, Nancy Holbrook/Quentin Smith
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12





	Not Exactly Home

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the awful realization I had that Bill looks and sounds a whole hell of a lot like Quentin's dad from the movie, and translated into some Quentin gets a hug catharsis. 
> 
> Warnings for remake Freddy being the scum of the earth, and canon typical violence and injuries. 
> 
> Enjoy!

"Would you look at that angelfish..." the screeching of metal finger knives on old pipes was deafening, the words only barely coming out from above them. Quentin's eyes were locked on The Nightmare as he backpedaled as quickly as he could without falling, "Doesn't this look familiar." Quentin's heart began to race, his head shaking as if to forcefully remove the memories from his head. Freddy cocked his glove toward Quentin, wagging the fingers as if to tease him. "Oh don't be shy... You used to love it down there." 

"Shut the hell up." 

"Ooh, feisty. Always makes it more fun." Quentin felt nauseous, but he pressed on, not noticing how quickly Freddy had started to move. 

The finger knives made contact with his chest before he could comprehend it. He let out a choked sound, stumbling a bit. The face Freddy made in response made him want to throw up. As The Nightmare pressed closer, Quentin's mind continued to race, flashing from fear to horror to a pain he'd nearly forgotten all in an instant. Freddy loomed over him, towering and monstrous as he was in Quentin's darkest memories. He closed his eyes and curled into himself, the physical pain providing a subtle distraction from the horrible memories. 

Until he heard the roar of a group of footsteps from behind him, followed by a loud "Hey shithead, over here!" Thankfully, that drew Freddy's attention away from him, allowing him to curl into the wall further, unable to do much of anything else in that moment. 

He could only watch the situation before him through tear stained eyes. 

And what a situation it was. 

Freddy was turned around to face a furious looking Laurie, Bill and Nancy, standing in a firm circle. Freddy tried to lunge for Nancy, but Laurie cut him off quickly, diving in front of him and to Quentin's shock, snagging an old piece of rusted metal from the ground and jamming it hard into Freddy's hip, barely missing his groin. Quentin couldn't help but smile, his holding his head up gradually becoming more and more of a chore, and the world slowly blurring more and more. 

He heard yelling distantly, but it didn't register, his mind focusing on nothing but the fact that he was hurting, he was hurting bad, and he needed to get out of this basement. _Please, someone get him out of this fucking basement_. Everything was ablur, running together in a horrible fog that felt so palpable and familiar. 

Next thing he knew, there were two sets of hands on him, one pair small and nimble, slowly examining the wounds, and the other, much more calloused, strangely much more familiar, propping him up to a comfortable position against something steady and warm. Without thinking, he leaned in, finding his head come to rest in the crook of someone's neck. 

Through his haze, Quentin started to put puzzle pieces together the best he could. 

"You... You stabbed 'im. You're not s'posed to do that," Quentin slurred to the woman in front of him, who let out a content laugh. 

"What's it gonna do to me, make me play hide and seek with my brother? Stick me on a meat hook? I've seen what it can do to people and I'm not impressed anymore," Laurie quipped, mischief glowing in her eyes. Quentin smiled drowsily, wincing as Laurie continued to dress his fresh wounds. He felt a hand tilt his head upward, and he slowly but surely let it happen, turning to see the face.... 

The face of.... 

Holy shit. 

He let out a choked sob before he could even think. 

"Dad?" He asked wistfully, burying his head further into the man's neck and crying freely. The familiar feeling of a grey beard against his head, and the soothingly gruff voice made him feel a strange sense of ease, the haze of fear and blood loss preventing him from thinking about his surroundings. He'd never seen his dad wear that jacket before, and the hat was a little strange, but he didn't have the energy to consider it. Honestly, he didn't care. Who else would sit with him on the floor of hell and try to take some of the pain away while he cried. He'd gotten so used to being the healer, playing for others that he almost forgot what it was like to be cared for. 

No one else would do that. It had to be his dad. 

So, exhausted and confused and trying desperately to drown out the memories this basement was chock full of, he slumped against his dad's chest, too scared and exhausted to question his father's sudden stiffness, and the strange hesitance in his hands as they ghosted over his hair.

But alas, the Entity wasn't that kind. 

The arms that Quentin folded himself into were not the arms of his father. They were the strong, steady, but extremely confused arms of Bill Overbeck.

Bill froze at the word and the movement, not exactly sure what to do about the sobbing kid in his arms. On one hand, it felt cruel to give the kid false hope, even if he was in a stupor. He didn't want to lie. There was nothing more dangerous than hope in situations like this, and telling this kid that his father was there would only lead to hurt him. On the other, that word and the raw desperation behind it gnawed at Bill's gut. He considered himself a hardened man. He'd seen hell in all of its forms, but something about the instinctual pain in Quentin's voice made all of it fade away. 

He wasn't going to deprive a child of comfort. Especially not when he was the only one the child seemed to want it from. 

So after a slight hesitation, he rested a hand in Quentin's hair, drawing a strange sound from the kid as he started to pet it awkwardly.

Bill's face was stretched into a strange grimace, emotions swirling in his eyes. Frankly, it was....disturbing. Bill had always seen the kid as a strong, capable survivor like him. Hell, sometimes he forgot he was as young as he was, that Freddy (that awful motherfucker) hurt him as badly as he did. Laurie looked at him sadly, knowingly. Her eyes were teary, and her posture was flighty and upset. Bill raised his eyebrow, asking her silently for a reason for her distress. Laurie glanced down at Quentin, biting her lip before speaking. 

Her voice was barely a whisper, trembling as she spoke, "He always said you looked like him. He uh... He's not thinking straight." Bill nearly winced, rubbing Quentin's neck unconsciously. 

"Do I?" Bill asked gently but dumbfoundedly, the kid still rested awkwardly in his arms. Laurie nodded, still trying to stay quiet as to not disturb Quentin. 

"Talks about it all the time..." Laurie mouthed, securing a bandage over the last of Quentin's new scars as he winced and leaned further into Bill. Laurie stood for a moment, leaving the two men alone. 

"D...ad?" Quentin's voice was soft and worn, jarringly desperate in its approach. Bill huffed, considering for a moment before responding. 

"Yeah?" He tried to keep his voice down, hoping the kid wouldn't recognize any differences. 

"You were.. You were right." Bill raised an eyebrow, his hand freezing in Quentin's hair. 

"Was I?" Quentin nodded feebly. 

"'m sorry... For doubting you. I.. I miss you. I'm sorry..." Quentin was shaking now, tears still falling steadily. Bill didn't know what to do, much less how to react, so he simply ran fingers through the kid's messy hair, letting him sag into his side weakly. Bill spoke to him meaninglessly, mustering a part of him that he didn't know he had to try and soothe Quentin the best he could. 

He hardly noticed when Laurie return, smiling slightly at the sight before her. "Let's get him out of here, Nancy just finished the last gen," she said firmly, trying not to stir Quentin too much. Bill nodded, gently securing his hand around Quentin's shoulder and helping him to his feet. Quentin was completely out of it, lolling his head into Bill's shoulder and throwing all of his weight against the veteran. Bill didn't mind, helping him out of the basement the best he could, with Laurie occasionally helping when he needed relief. 

They met Nancy at the gates, and surprisingly, the dream demon was nowhere to be found. She was finishing the gate as quickly as she could manage, tossing a sympathetic look back toward the others. Laurie shot her a concerned look, helping Bill and Quentin to the slowly opening gate. Quentin shivered harshly under Bill's arms, his eyes fixed on a point behind them that Bill didn't bother to look at. 

With a breath of triumph, the group escaped, returning to the campfire almost entirely intact. 

\----

A few hours after the trial, Bill stood from his spot around the campfire and headed to check on the kid. He couldn't just leave him to recover alone, not after that. "Hey kid, doing any better?" he asked softly as he slowly entered the tent. Quentin's face flushed red as he nodded. 

"Yeah... I'm alright... Listen, Laurie told me... I'm sorry Bill. I didn't mean to do that to you." 

"It's okay kid. You were scared, bleeding, not thinking right. I didn't care, really." Quentin sighed in relief, his complexion still bright red and his eyes tearing up. "You miss home, don't you." Quentin nodded absently, hugging his knees. 

"I just feel bad. I... I should have said goodbye." 

"You couldn't have known. Don't beat yourself up about it, that's okay," he sat down next to the kid, leaning back, "Want to talk about it?" Quentin smiled softly. 

"I don't want to bore you." Bill laughed more genuinely than Quentin had ever heard. 

"Not possible. Nothing more exciting than stories from somewhere you guys think to be mundane. Haven't had that happen to me for a while." Quentin smiled softly, huffing before he began to speak. 

"I was supposed to take a girl on a date before I got here." Bill smirked, lighting his cigarette. 

"Oh really?" Bill encouraged, sitting back and listening to the kid reminisce. 

Sometimes, he forgot that his compatriots did, in fact, have lives outside of hellscapes, and this kid was no exception. He smirked as the kid raved about the beautiful and resourceful and caring Nancy Holbrook, and for just a moment, he let his mind go away from the horrible situation. 

For just a moment, he didn't have to think about Quentin as simply a fellow survivor. 

He could think about Quentin the person. Quentin who had a girlfriend, and a family, and a life all his own. Quentin who didn't deserve any of this, especially not facing off against that charred motherfucker every once in a while. 

Quentin, who Bill was going to keep an eye on from the sidelines, because to Bill, he deserved to see the life he had once again.

**Author's Note:**

> So hope that was fun! Hope you enjoyed. Comments and kudos mean the world, thank you so much for reading! Have a great rest of your day.


End file.
